


Perfect (ly Useless)

by CreepyLittleLullaby



Series: Langst (Voltron Legendary Defender) [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Depressed Lance (Voltron), Homesick Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Langst, References to Depression, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 22:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11045838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreepyLittleLullaby/pseuds/CreepyLittleLullaby
Summary: Based off a post by the lovely pink-paladin-lance on tumblr. Give her credit for this lovely idea!Langst for everyone!When a world leader can recognize everyone's greatness, except for the person who needs recognition the most.





	Perfect (ly Useless)

It was always interesting. Standing in front of a world leader at least. They always looked so regal, so important. Looking down with either kindness or as if they were better than you. And either way he had to smile and take it. They needed allies. Besides, it was okay. Lance knew how to play the game. After teachers and authority figures looking down on him he knew how to play the game. Play it well. Don’t let them know you’re playing it. Simple. If there was anything Lance was good at, not much, but games were one of them. He’d had six siblings’ worth of practice and strict parents. So, playing the game on a moment’s notice like now, was no surprise or issue as they all stood in front of this world’s leader. The five paladins, Allura, and Coran. The king was smiling broadly at all of them, hands spread out in that way that people always depict in a royal’s honesty and blessings. He regarded the team with reverence and gratitude as he bowed his head a small bit.

“That was a battle well fought for you all! We are most grateful and very reassured. Voltron is certainly in quite capable hands if I can say so myself. It’s with all our gratitude that we thank you valiant heroes for helping to save my kingdom and home.” The king let his hands down to brush back a long wisp of hair that escaped past his face. Lance grinned widely with pride at the words, almost glowing as his chest puffed up. Pleased and happy at the praise and recognition. Though, with his reputation Lance knew that it could look like cockiness as he spoke.

“Well, thank you very much!” Lance’s grin was so wide that it probably could have split his smooth and tan face in half, which only made the other team mates smile as well. Until that grin faded into a tight lipped and strained smile as the king barely seemed to recognize he spoke. Looking over him with cold and calculating eyes that Lance knew all too well. Lance threw on another smile as he braced for the words he knew were coming to hit him.

“Except you, blue paladin. You seemed to be… idle today, did you not? I may be mistaken however; my sight is not as good as it once was. Do you have a specialty like the others on your team or?” The king seemed to get an idea, his eyes lighting up. “Ah, I’m very sorry. You must be a substitute for the true blue paladin. They must be out of service hmm? Then I’d have to say, as a substitute in need you were truly an inspiration. A job well done for such shorthanded notice!” 

Even after all these years, the verbal lashings, the disappointment, fake sincerity. It never really stopped hurting… did it? No… not really. Even when he knew it was coming, it still could sting. Well, more than sting. It felt like one of those hot knife complications that Lance had watched back home. Except, it wasn’t a random material the knife was going through. It felt like the knife was going through him, digging deep into his back. Again. And again. Just like always. It hurt. Lance was good at only a few things. Playing games. And faking masks. Of goofy fun. Of seriousness. He probably would have been a damn good actor honestly. That’s why it was just, so familiar and easy to put that joking and happy light in his eyes before anyone could see just how it dimmed with pain and rejection, before they would look through the mask of his eyes and read the words that his head filled in to remind him, beat him, and torture him with all of his insecurities. 

Chemical imbalances to make you hate yourself really sucked didn’t it?

But, there was nothing he could do but smile and laugh through it, right?

The rest of the team however, weren’t so easy to brush it aside. Not so, ‘happy’ or even mildly okay with the words that the king had said. Furious, enraged, disgusted are the only adjectives that really came to mind. Hunk’s fists were clenched at his sides and he was holding a tight grip onto his tongue so it wouldn’t get loose and spew out curses, or get more physical and tear the asshole’s tongue off for daring to insult someone who’d risked their life for his planet. Pidge herself wasn’t much cooler, glaring silently with a death stare that looked like she was going to put someone six feet under with a simple stare of sear anger and her own will power.

No one would put it past Pidge either.

Allura was handling two people’s anger together as she discreetly kept an iron grip of Keith’s hands. The red paladin’s fingers were twitching so bad it was hard for her to hold on, but she held on through determination. If she didn’t she knew there was a high possibility of losing an alliance and having one of her paladins face an assault with a deadly weapon’s charge. Even though, for just a moment, of judgement blurred by anger and hurt, of diplomatic relations and the well-being and love for her paladins. She almost wanted to like the long-haired raven go and let Keith’s abundance of anger and violence exact vengeance for her. How dare he. Dare her make such accusations at their team’s sharpshooter, the one kid on the team who thought of everyone, to tell bad jokes and smile at his own expense when everyone was fed up and stressed. Wanting to give in.

But, the anger turned on a dime, the burning and toxic emotions turning into horror and shock as Lance just grinned again. Wide, and almost convincingly as he looked the king right in the eyes unflinchingly, still clad in his rightful blue paladin armor with his back straight and his posture screaming confidence and deserving of respect.

“Yeah, that seems about right.” And Lance spun on the heel of his white and blue shoes, walking briskly away and heading straight towards the place where he knew he’d left blue for this small and obviously bitter meeting. Still smiling. Smiling so painful wide that it hurt his cheeks, even when his eyes burned agonizingly. Crying was so weird, right? He felt like he did it all the time anymore. For such stupid reasons too. Of course they couldn’t follow him, they could risk losing an ally for anything, much less a pathetic paladin who was too easy to get upset. A faux paladin. So easy to replace. After all, when they could dig up a better blue paladin, he’d be gone right? No more stupid, goofy, flirty player of a clinically depressed paladin, right? All he had to do now, was try his best and live up to the standards he knew he’d always fail, until they found the one to be the right paladin. Then, he could go home. To Sophia, his mama, and all of his siblings and family. He could go back to everyone. And no one would ever think twice. No one would have to know.

Besides, they were all so busy and cool. He couldn’t drag them down with some stupid insecurities. He could deal with them. He’d been fighting for his life and mind ever since he was diagnosed after all. He was used to it. He’d win the fights, and do a good job for now. He couldn’t let them down, they were all so, powerful, and gifted. If he tried hard, maybe. Just maybe he could impress them before it was time for him to be brushed away and aside like always. Everyone always got tired of him eventually, but, maybe he could make an impression before he faded away. Like when the tides erased the messages on the soft beach sand of his home, washing over the words and whisking them away. Sometimes, he could make it deep enough so that the imprints lasted for a tide or two more… Yeah, he’d do just that.

Just one day at a time after all. He’d be perfectly fine when they asked. Smile even as he felt like he was going to die. He was a perfectly useless seventh wheel. But, with the chance he had now, the present, life, he wouldn’t be happy, but okay was possible. Being happy was great, but being okay…

Being okay was just fine too.


End file.
